What happened to Whitley Schnee?
by Francisthesmol
Summary: During a business trip something goes wrong in the military aircraft. Now the Schnee is stuck in the wilderness alone- but with a twist He isn't the hunted...he's the hunter. The only question is, will he be able to keep his humanity? (rated M for mild reference to gore and mentions of blood)


It was quiet. That was the only thing going through the young Schnee's mind. Black swirling clouds and souring winds rushed past the flying metal vessel, looking more like a giant metal structure than any kind of actual air craft. It was a precaution. You often need a lot of defense and security when it comes to being a Schnee. After all, that's the only thing Whitley has ever truly known.

Many nights were spent looking out of steel plated windows and on luxury flying giant death traps they calls air ships. It became a pattern. A soft silent sigh managing to not escape through his lips but reaching his eyes. It was...tiring.

Going from place to place, business trip after business trip. This cycle started after his sister left for beacon. With her out of the way and his father growing more angry by the second- well...he did always want his fathers attention- so what if he acted it up a little? It got him what he wanted- right?

But did he want this? Honestly- he didn't know anymore. At first it might of been, but it could just as easily been a strive for any attention what so ever. He hadn't gotten an ounce in years- 6 to be exact. At this moment Whitley was 14, and the only affection he remembered before all of this was when he was 8.

Yes. It was his mother, Willow. The Schnee that married Jacques, his father, and a loving mother. At first anyway. All marriages lead to problems but in this case...it was torture. By the time he was 8 his mother had grown distant, turning to wine rather than reading her son bedtime stories. And Winter didn't help either.

He was jealous of her of course, getting their fathers attention. And then when she left to be ironwood's lapdog, she didn't give him attention then. Not that he could blame her really...but really- was it so hard to see what he really needed?

But he supposes his father fucked them all up in some ways...as crass as it is to say such. Winter attended to Weiss, and Whitley dedicated himself to their father and the business. Of course it was lonely but- a Schnee isn't made for friends or privileges. A Schnee is a leader- a Schnee is something he was born into and something he will always work towards. In a sense it was his only passion- to continue the Schnee legacy in all its greatness. Now there were some points that Whitley had to contend- such as his fathers stance on faunus. Why he finds them to be awfully violent and somewhat...repugnant, they are fine workers. The issue of underpaying comes with the insurance and packages they receive, not the wages. Honestly he just...doesn't get it.

Being against a group is fine and all, but the damages the SDC receives through protests and rallies and whitefang attacks is much more costly than it would be to just...give them the same plan as non faunus workers. Not to mention it'd be good publicity. But over the years Weiss was away he learned quickly not to talk back to their father and rather just listen. Jacques was not past punishing his kids violently if need be- and although he only received so once...it was scaring. Quite literally so, judging by the small scar across his left thigh.

No one had to know about that though. He's a Schnee, he's tough- a leader...and leaders live on. That's where he was now right? His father had been forced onto a different aircraft than he had- business partners and negotiations that Jacques refused to let the boy in on...despite his loyalty.

The craft was bulky and plated for defense, rows of military grade seats made to look like they'd be jumping to their deaths in some battlefield...no matter how many fancy tabled and wine glasses they lay out, it will always be a place of death...

Slowly as the young boy found the black clouds swirling around the metal monstrosity, his eyes grew droopy...and slowly...he rested his head into his hands and closed his eyes for a few moments...

Yes...just a few more...moments...

...

...

...

...

_...hm?_ What...

The young lad spoke to himself. It seemed he started to wake from his slumber- the sound of a repeated siren like noise blaring through the foggy and dreary world of the wakening. It all seemed to distant...the noise came through like a fog in his drowsy state.

...Then it got louder. And Louder. And louder. And suddenly- it was rocketing through the walls of his skull entirely.

"Engine- f" It cut out just like that. Why was his head so...painful? In pain? Had he hit it- what caused that? What was this siren?

"ENGINE FAILURE. PLEASE-"

This time it was clearer. And finally- with the bouts of drowsiness being drowned out by the panic and adrenaline, the young Schnee shot up- finding his balance being off put...not by his state- but the aircraft itself was out of control!

"**ENGINE FAILURE! PLEASE FIND A PARACHUTE NOW!" **

The booming voice accompanied by a loud blaring siren filled the limited air. As the Schnee grabbed onto the window seal behind him he looked out, seeing...smoke. The clouds were black yes- but the rushing smoke from the wing was undeniable. Had something hit the craft? What could get past Atlas level military grade defenses- perhaps it was a egregious misuse of equipment? Or a assassination plot?

Regardless the Aircraft seemed to be...spinning. Yes judging by the clouds he could see in place moving- they were spiraling down at a record pace. He was always trained to listen to instructions in these situations, but when it came to the thing in question? It was...shocking. A sense of dread and helplessness overcame the boys body. He could barely hold on and keep his balance much less analyze the situation in time.

The more he processed- the more he realized...

He would be dead.

The cold stone of the pavement below them, the roaring sounds of grimm- those animalistic creatures of darkness tearing into bone and flesh alike...

The icy limp state of his body- and a feeling he...hadn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

Yes- below it all...there was hope. In his mind the Schnee found himself reasoning with himself about his death- but the hope came in the form of the pilot abandoning his station, probably knowing that the situation was much too dire to save at this point, had gone to the area Whitley was stored in and picked the boy up.

He felt strong arms carry him past metal and creaking floors- smoke pillowing inside and the faint sound of grimm roars around him. He smelled blood too, a wet splodge just on his hip where his mid section met the mans shoulders. Was he bleeding...?

Rather than let the Schnee perish, this brave man took the boy and grabbed a parachute- practically yanking the others limbs through it all. With a seldom look and a regretful half smile, the soldier nodded.

"God speed boy, god speed..."

He hardly had time to process the words- much less being practically forced out of the craft.

The air didn't get to him right away. It was a bit of silent- deafening silence, of the world around him. Smoke passed his eyes, the metal structure rushed past him- his eyes gazed upwards towards the aircraft only to see a pair of giant talons, likely from a nevermore, colliding into the metal. The beastly show was his to display- until...he saw more grimm. Flying gorilla grimm? What was this- was this some terrible dream?

...No. the blood rushing past his lips and the adrenaline making his heart pump would state otherwise. He had been frozen by fear for so long...how close was he to the ground? Would he hit it and die- would he be able to slow down in time? Would he-

CRASH.

It seemed along with Whitley some dust containers managed to sneak by the craft opening- and now another nevermore had collided with the case and caused an explosion of fiery propulsion. It sent Whitley flying back more- clothes singing and his skin being visibly hurt by the blast. Luckily he was just enough out of range to only be shooken by it- and lightly burnt.

His skin called out in agony, lungs filling up with smoke, it all came to a halt.

Among this action, the Schnee finally acted- the fear had finally been beaten by his adrenaline and Schnee desperately pulled the string on his parachute.

He didn't know if it opened, all he knows is...he felt the ground soon after. Pain, darkness, helplessness- and grimm surrounding him on the ground.

Whitley Schnee...wouldn't be the same again.

* * *

..._Hm...?_

What...what happened? Ugh...his body ached all over- well actually his right arm seemed to be fine for some reason...but the rest of him ached in agony. The last thing he remembers was...the business trip- then...hitting the ground?

Is that were he was now?

Was it...? He...didn't know...

No- he only knew that...he was in pain. His eyes blurred the sky above him...grimm were flying away. A trail of smoke came nearby from the crash obviously. Had anyone survived...? No? He didn't know...his body just ached.

Ached all over...it hurt so much...bones crying out in agony.

No...it's- too much...his eyes grew droopy yet again...

...

...How long had it been...?

Since he closed his eyes?

A few minutes...? Hours...? Days...? Likely not more than a day given the early daylight surrounding him...no- it was...far too late. His body still ached- but the pain dulled. Was it his mind, tiredness? What was it?

...Regardless. The best course of action right now is to find help...yes. Slowly- he realized his arm was not in pain. He used it to slowly pry himself from the ground- rather easily actually...perhaps the adrenaline made him stronger? It didn't matter...he just needed to crawl...

Yes- slowly on his belly he crawled, using his good arm to drag himself along with half closed eyes.

It went on like this for some time- seemingly forever but in reality not even a minute. What was this hellish state? Why did this happen- surely someone had to come...yes someone would come soon.

They had to.

For now he was just...hungry. Good god he was hungry...so starving- so hungry...hungry...

What was that smell...? Meat? Mm...not like he can be picky...was his body moving itself? He didn't know- he just needed...meat...needed food.

What was his teeth sinking into? He not dared open his eyes. It was nourishment- and by the gods did his ravenous tearing into it show how desperately he needed it. Saliva drooped from his mouth and pointed teeth...food...food...

* * *

**"In today's news it is seemingly reported that a grimm attack caused a Atlas aircraft to grow out of control- the young boy of the Schnee family, Whitley, reportedly was on that craft and so far hasn't been spotted near the crash sight. The Pilot is currently in a coma, and the young Schnee is presumed missing or dead. It is a nation wide search to-"**

Click.

The young woman felt a tinge of disgust turn her stomach. There was so many things happening in that one story- so many...

Let us process this...

Winter Schnee sat there in her work uniform in her office, currently trying not to be sick at the thought of her brothers passing. How had a military craft fall to grimm so easily- how could her brother still be missing? How could their father not be losing his mind?!

It is true- Whitley was spoiled and somewhat of a brat- but could she blame him? He was 14, and now he...

No. There was no body...Whitley may not have his aura unlocked but...he still had the semblance- right? There's simply no way he would of gone missing...he had to be out there. Could Whitley make it on his own? What could she even do...?

Her thoughts were cut off by tears, and a knock to her door. A rather sad looking general ironwood appeared to comfort her.

...she didn't know what to think. She just knew somewhere deep down...Whitley was alive. No matter how- he would not die...

* * *

...Crunch...

The sound of bone snapping and flesh being consumed in a gorging fashion filled the air. The slurp and hungry laps at meat, the sickening stripping of flesh from bone.

But it was not Whitley on the receiving end- no...he was the hunter right now. It was a rabbit. It's been a few days since his last meal...not that he remembers it. He wanted to cook it- he wanted to do so many things but...what happened?

He doesn't know anymore...the saliva coated his lips the instant the animal was slain by a pointed stick he had fashioned. He was eating it raw. Why was he able to...why did he enjoy it?

Then again it wasn't like he could fathom much anymore. The last few days have been a blur of chasing down animals and wondering into caves and sleeping out in the wild...yes- the grimm seemed to be absent from this area. Why? He knew not. It was lucky however- and the only reason he's been able to survive this long.

But meat and blood can only get you so far. With a meal down his stomach the Schnee began to trail through trees and bushes.

It didn't take long to find water, a fresh stream.

But that wasn't what was so hard about this next bit. It was looking into the river.

Much like he thought- the boy was much skinnier. Hair ruffled, ribs poking out his chest just a bit- tired and droopy eyes...

Then he saw it. He screamed.

It had to be fake- right?

A long black slenderness slivering tendril of an arm twisted into human shape on his left side.

...What happened?

What happened to Whitley Schnee?


End file.
